


A Secret Shared

by Emrys MK (mk_malfoy)



Series: Merlin Episodes: AUs, Missing Scenes, and Inspired By [15]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Conversations, Canon Era, Deleted Scenes, Eavesdropping, Episode: s04e07 The Secret Sharer, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Frottage, M/M, Missing Scene, Misunderstandings, Rimming, Romance, Sad Merlin, Secrets, sad Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2018-12-11 06:59:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11709237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mk_malfoy/pseuds/Emrys%20MK
Summary: When Gaius was found and brought back to Camelot in 4X07 (The Secret Sharer), Arthur was told he needed to apologise to Merlin. This story begins soon after (there are several references to the deleted scene talked about in the commentary for The Secret Sharer - the one where Merlin is rude to Arthur and lets him have a piece of his mind), and, as apologies go, this one starts out rather rocky but ends sultry, sensually, and smoothly.





	A Secret Shared

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to my amazing beta, Pelydryn!
> 
> This was written for [Canon Fest](http://merlin-canon.livejournal.com/) on Live Journal.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** Merlin characters are the property of Shine and BBC. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

“...Merlin said that I…”

But _what Merlin had said_ was unclear, and as Merlin stopped in front of the almost closed door and pressed his ear against it so he could figure out who was talking about him and what they were saying, a magnificent flash of lightning and spectacular clap of thunder lit up the foreboding, cloudy sky and ripped through the candle-laden corridor, upsetting the serene calm that had, at long last, begun to settle over Merlin. 

And, unfortunately, it also drowned out the voice on the other side of the door.

Merlin’s streak of hapless bad luck, which had seemingly given him a brief break, continued. He wished that fact surprised him. Alas, it did not.

He couldn’t be sure—the voice was muffled because of the barrier of limestone and wood, and there was the thunder to compete with—but the voice he’d heard certainly sounded like Arthur’s.

Just the thought made Merlin bristle. It would serve Arthur right if Merlin barged in and confronted him, but he wisely, or so that is what his inner-voice told him, decided against doing so. He needed to pick his battles, and this one probably wasn’t worth his time or energy. Arthur was in one of his snooty moods and, with Merlin in the state he was in, a confrontation was the last thing either of them needed at the moment.

Harsh words had already been exchanged over the past three days, ones that could never be taken back. As angry as Merlin was, he hoped that one day soon all of this would be in the past and he and Arthur could return to how it had been before, but that was probably a dream.

Things would never return to how they had been as long as Arthur’s uncle was constantly in his nephew’s ear, _guiding_ him.

And, speaking of Agravaine, if it was, in fact, Arthur doing the talking in the room on the other side of the door, and Merlin was almost positive it was, it was probably Agravaine he was talking to. Merlin knew it could be anyone, one of the knights, perhaps, but who else did the prat speak to these days besides Merlin? It was as if Arthur thought his uncle had all the answers.

It was maddening, and it was enough to make Merlin ill. So much so that he had been tempted, on a daily basis, to go to Arthur and straight out tell him that the man he looked up to was bad news. Merlin had, in fact, done that very thing in a roundabout way the other day after Agravaine had spun his web of deceit about Gaius. It had felt freeing to finally voice his concerns but, of course, Arthur hadn’t believed him.

One day he would—Merlin was as sure of that as he was that the sun would rise again in the morning—but that day was not now. Unfortunately, Merlin had to remain silent on the matter until he had proof. Indisputable, ironclad, irrefutable evidence that no one could argue against.

But such a feat wouldn’t be easy. Agravaine de Bois, who could do no wrong in Arthur’s eyes, had come to Camelot in his regal robes and his debonair demeanour, espousing his wishes to help Arthur in his _time of need_.

The prince had been all-too-willing to believe his uncle meant him no harm. And, really, how many family members would come and offer help, only to wreak havoc on their nephew’s kingdom? Merlin wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, and he would if the situation weren’t so dire.

Everything was going downhill quickly and, as strong as Merlin was, he felt unequal to the task of stopping it. But he had to. He had no choice. It was down to him. It had always been down to him. Arthur’s very future might well rest upon his shoulders.

And it was finally beginning to take an oppressive toll on Merlin.

It had been an unrelenting marathon of extreme emotions for him these past few days, one that had left him mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted. Tending patients, worrying about what had happened to Gaius, dealing with an unreasonable Arthur, lamenting the fact that Morgana was the one behind all of this, and trying to come up with a strategy to out Agravaine for the traitor he was had pushed Merlin past his limits. It was all too much, and he wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

Not long after the noon hour of the day before, Merlin had nearly burst out in tears when one of the knight’s small children spilled milk all over Arthur’s newly laundered cloak. The only reason Merlin had held it together was because the small boy had himself begun to wail, thinking he was about to get in trouble for soiling the king’s cloak. Harried as he was, Merlin had taken pity on the child and, after settling him on his shoulders, had given him a ride to where his father and the other knights were meeting.

It had done wonders for both Merlin and the child.

But other than that small respite, Merlin felt as if the walls were closing in on him. He wanted to shout at everyone and tell them how unfair all of this was, but he couldn’t. He was the lowly servant, wasn’t he? And if anyone found out he had magic, he was done for. He had to tread carefully.

It was frustrating.

But, thanks to his detective work and Gwaine’s good memory, at least Gaius had been found before any permanent damage was done to him.

That was something good that Merlin held onto for dear life. Losing Gaius would have probably been the proverbial last straw for Merlin, thus the fact that the person whom he owed his very life to had been found did much to bolster Merlin and give him the strength he needed to figure out what was going on.

He'd spent the past six hours sat by the Court Physician's side, willing him to open his eyes, and, at long last, Gaius had. It would be a while yet before he was up and about, treating patients once again—he was physically weak and had been through quite the traumatic ordeal—but he was alive and doing well enough that Gwen had all but forced Merlin to leave and, if not get some rest, to at least get some fresh air.

He hadn’t wanted to leave—he didn’t want to _not_ be there when Arthur deigned to come by to apologize to Gaius (Merlin was near giddy in anticipation of such)—but as he had been restless and Gwen had insisted he take a break, he’d reluctantly agreed. He’d learned long ago that Gwen knew him almost as well as his mother did, and that when she suggested Merlin do something, he should heed her advice. It was actually somewhat scary, yet it made Merlin feel protected. He didn’t know what he would do without her.

He’d been on his way to the roof when he’d heard his name, and it wasn’t as if he had a name that one heard in conversation on a daily basis. It was doubtful _Merlin_ had referred to anyone other than him.

He cupped his hand around his ear and strained to hear what was being said, but instead of voices, it was footsteps he now heard. Whoever was inside the room was walking towards him.

Looking around frantically, he hurriedly turned the nearest corner and plastered himself against the wall, hoping whoever it was wasn’t headed his way. Not that he wasn’t quick on his feet—by now he was proficient at making up stories to satisfy Arthur’s curiosity—but he wasn’t at his best at the moment; therefore, he would rather not have to lie.

As he waited, he inched closer to the corner, carefully looked around it, and watched as Sir Leon walked out. He was suited up, most likely about to go on patrol. He looked worried as he halted his movements and seemed to be thinking as he looked around. After several seconds he turned back towards the other person and cleared his throat. Merlin held his breath, lest breathing cover up what was about to be said.

“You need to be honest with him. He deserves that much, wouldn’t you agree?” Sir Leon said before he looked down at the floor. “And, as much as you aren’t going to want to hear this,” he added as he looked up again, “you deserve that much as well. I’ve known you for many years, and a finer man I have never known. You do deserve happiness.”

Merlin was still unable to see who Sir Leon was speaking to, but the harrumph that followed could have come from none other than Arthur.

He was curious what they were prattling on about. And he was surprised that the normally soft-spoken Sir Leon had been as forthright as he had with the king, but, at the moment, as Merlin knew the conversation between the two would soon come to an end, he was somewhat more worried about getting caught.

Why again had he allowed Gwen to talk him into leaving? What if anything happened to Gaius? What if— Arthur clearing his throat interrupted Merlin’s meandering thoughts.

“You know I can’t be honest with him, Leon. And, even if I could, it’s not as if it matters. I doubted him and dismissed what he told me. I’ll be lucky if he speaks to me ever again.” And then Arthur appeared in the doorway, his face ashen, his eyes downcast. He sighed before turning and walking in the opposite direction. Leon followed a few seconds later.

Merlin didn’t move. What had that been about? Well, it had been about _him_ , he knew that much (unless Arthur had ignored and dismissed someone else’s thoughts as well, which was certainly not out of the realm of possibility), but what had Leon been going on about? What was Arthur keeping from him?

It seemed that Merlin wasn’t the only one with a secret.

Well, whatever the secret was, Merlin had no more room at the moment to think about it; his head felt as if it were about to explode as it was. Whatever Arthur was keeping from him was a problem to worry about at a later date. And, it wasn’t as if it was going to affect Merlin’s current situation. After all, he had his own secret that he was keeping from Arthur and it didn’t seem to be hurting anyone.

But Merlin had to admit that being on the other end of a secret didn’t feel at all good.

One more worry now on his shoulders, Merlin continued down the corridor and headed towards the roof.

It was impossible to get away from what was happening all around him, but the roof had always been the one place that could bring him peace and allow him some small bit of solitude, as well as respite from the harsh realities that swirled around him like a whirlwind.

There were many that kept him up late at night.

Morgana was the one that perplexed and devastated him the most. She and Merlin had magic in common and could have helped each other, but time and circumstance had unfortunately changed, and now she seemed determined to bring down her brother’s kingdom. Morgana’s latest attempts to disrupt Camelot’s peace had resulted in her kidnapping Merlin and having him attempt to kill Arthur, and then abducting Gaius to get information out of him. Neither had worked, thank the gods. It would seem that Merlin was as proficient at assassinating people as he was at healing them, and Gaius had found an unexpected ally whom had protected the true identity of Emrys.

Lady luck had shone down upon him and those he cared about thus far, but Merlin wasn’t fool enough to believe that Morgana would stop just because of a few failures. She would continue until either she got what she wanted or died.

Merlin dreaded one almost as much as the other. No matter how evil she now was, he would forever see Morgana as the sweet, loyal friend who had helped him defend Ealdor. It was almost impossible to reconcile the two. There hadn’t been an evil bone within _The Lady Morgana_ that Merlin had met all those years ago. She would have given her last morsel of food to a stranger who was starving if it meant the difference between life and death, but Merlin knew all too well that, if it came to it, he would kill her if it meant protecting the ones he loved.

No matter how much goodness had once resided within Morgana Pendragon, all of that had left her. It was gone. A memory. Merlin tried to push that bit to the back of his mind; it was almost impossible, but do it he must. He wouldn’t allow her the reign of terror she so coveted.

Killing her would hurt, though. It would hurt for a very long time.

Agravaine, on the other hand… killing him wouldn’t hurt in the least. It was wrong to take a life—Merlin understood that—but he also knew that no one would endanger those closest to him if he had a say in it, and there was no doubt in Merlin’s mind that Arthur’s uncle had to be the traitor. There was no other explanation.

Arthur wouldn’t want to listen to such accusations, though—he had already _not_ listened when Merlin tried to tell him—so it was down to Merlin to do something to out the man. He would have to tread carefully, though. 

The recently crowned king continued to doubt himself as he mourned his father’s death, thus he relied on his uncle to lead him in the right direction as he learned how to navigate the overwhelming task of ruling Camelot. How was Merlin to tell Arthur that Agravaine was doing anything but helping?

It was inevitable that the truth would one day come out, and the thought wasn’t at all a happy one for Merlin. Arthur had been through enough in his twenty-six years; he didn’t need to find out that his mother’s brother had betrayed him.

But, whatever happened, Merlin would be there for Arthur. Prat or not, the king was Merlin’s destiny and, for better or worse, Arthur was the one Merlin had put his trust in.

He hoped he had chosen the right path. Sometimes, oftentimes, Merlin wondered. Magic was a part of him, yet he was unable to reveal that part of himself to Arthur. Instead, he played his role and did what he could to keep Arthur safe. The king of Camelot had no idea that magic was making it possible for him to continue on his journey, and that was how it had to remain. That Merlin had to hide who he truly was to Arthur was at times maddening and continually heart-and-soul-breaking, but Merlin believed that, in the end, it would all be worth it.

Some secrets were necessary.

It was all for Arthur.

Arthur. It all came back to him, didn’t it? And all because of a prophecy. 

Well, perhaps Kilgharrah’s words to Merlin soon after he arrived in Camelot had been the genesis of the odd relationship Arthur and Merlin now shared, but Merlin’s current devotion to the man he worked for went far beyond measly talk of fate. Merlin truly liked Arthur and wanted him to succeed. He would do just about anything to keep Arthur safe.

It was just too bad that Arthur didn’t appreciate such.

Merlin had devoted himself to the prat prince, who was now king, for the past six years and, for his efforts, he was given grief, little to no respect, and no voice (when it mattered). Most of his thoughts were dismissed as if he was a child, and his defense of Gaius had got him shouted at and berated like a common criminal.

Of course, there were those rare times that Arthur did praise Merlin for something he had done or said, and there were times when Arthur seemed to actually give Merlin’s opinion merit, but those were rare and far between. It seemed that the king enjoyed seeing how much he could heap on his servant more than he cared about his servant possibly having feelings.

Of course, now that Gaius had been found and was on the mend, Arthur would come to Merlin, apologise, and expect things to go back to how they had been. And, the sad thing was, they would, wouldn’t they? They always had.

Reaching the roof, Merlin stepped out and headed towards the parapet, breathing in the fresh, crisp autumn air that smelled of rain. The last time he had come up here was two nights after Arthur’s father died. That time, Arthur had joined him.

Merlin had said little. Arthur had said much. He’d told Merlin about his childhood—about the nights he wished his father would come in and tell him that there was someone who cared about him.

Once, soon after they’d met, Merlin had asked Arthur about his mother. Arthur had quickly changed the subject, but that night, however, sadness overwhelming him at the loss of his father, Arthur had told Merlin that he remembered hearing his father crying at night and that it had in turn made Arthur cry himself to sleep, begging for his mother to come to him.

It had been clear to Merlin that it was a difficult subject for Arthur to talk about, but what had always struck Merlin as perhaps the saddest part of the entire situation with Arthur and his family was that in all their talks, Arthur hadn’t once mentioned the word love.

Even though he hadn’t had an ideal childhood, Merlin’s mother had loved him unconditionally and had never made him feel unwanted. Merlin knew that Uther Pendragon must have loved his son, but he also knew that children, and even adults, oftentimes needed to see that _love_ in action to truly understand and be reassured.

Merlin hadn’t had any words of comfort for Arthur that night, and when Arthur had told Merlin how much he feared for the future and how inadequate he felt to be king, it had truly made Merlin want to weep. Most people thought Arthur was supremely sure of himself and confident in his abilities. Oh, how very wrong they were. Late that night, after Arthur had told Merlin he should get to bed before he fell over the parapet, he had said how much he’d like it if Merlin and he could go live on a farm somewhere.

Merlin wished that as well.

A weary Merlin looked out over the weather-beaten battlements and observed the goings-on below. The skies above continued to rumble and light up in advance of what was sure to be a stormy night, yet the people continued milling about as if nothing were amiss. He watched as Gwaine and Percival helped a woman carry her wares, and he grinned when he saw Elyan talking to a small girl nearby. And to his left there was a small boy who was crying as his father chastised him for something or another. Poor kid, Merlin thought, wondering what had happened.

It was just another day in Camelot.

Another rumble of thunder had Merlin looking up towards the angry-looking sky. He almost wished it would begin raining. For some reason, rain had always soothed him. He recalled being a small child, listening to the rain as it fell, and smelling the familiar scent of the water mixed with earth. It would forever remind him of home, safety, and security.

“Merlin?” called out the last person Merlin wanted to see or talk to. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Merlin refused to acknowledge Arthur. Instead, he focused on a mysterious carving in one of the crenellations. There were strange markings on it, and there was a symbol in between with an arrow through it. Merlin wondered about the carver—he was sure there had to be a captivating story behind it.

“So you are going to ignore me?” Arthur said, his voice sounding sad, not at all pompous or entitled as it usually did.

“Hm?” was the only indication Merlin gave that he had heard. He continued to study the esoteric markings, conjuring a story about the person who had etched it into the ancient stone. He imagined it was a young man who was in love and was marking a message for his beloved to find. They would meet later that night and make love as everyone slept. Merlin grinned, hoping that he was close to the truth, although no one would ever know; its origin would remain a secret for all eternity. “You mean like how you ignored me when I told you that Gaius wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye to me?” Merlin turned to face Arthur and was only mildly surprised to see that the king was pale. It gave Merlin the tiniest bit of satisfaction.

“We’ve gone over this, Merlin. What was I to think? Gaius’s horse was gone, his possessions were missing, and books of Sorcery were found in his chambers. You would have come to the same conclusion, and you know it. I thought you would understand once you calmed down, but your little tantrum yesterday in the Armoury proved otherwise. I should have had you sent to the stocks for a week for what you said to me—anyone else would have been executed on the spot for such treasonous talk—but lucky for you, I seem to care about you. Can’t imagine why,” he said, no smile on his face, but the familiar eyes that Merlin knew so well betrayed him.

No matter that such a look did wonders for Merlin, it didn’t negate what had happened over the past few days, nor did it lessen the anger he continued to feel. How dare Arthur bring up their _talk_ in the Armoury. It had been the newly crowned king of Camelot that had come to Merlin and had started in on him, telling him to get over his sulking and to get on with it and to accept that not everyone in Merlin’s life was as good as _Merlin_.

Merlin closed his eyes as he tried to compose himself enough to talk to Arthur in a calm manner, something he had most definitely not done in the Armoury. He had been downright rude to him, not mincing words. He had told Arthur he was cruel and didn’t know how to listen; that he had no clue what the people of Camelot went through on a daily basis, and on and on. The harsh realities had continued for several minutes. Merlin knew he had been unfair, but everything had built up and had finally been too much for him to hold in.

To his credit, Arthur hadn’t said a word during Merlin’s tirade. He’d listened to all that his servant had said without so much as a grunt. When Merlin finished, Arthur had turned and started to walk away, his head bowed, his hands shaking, but he had stopped at the door, and without looking back at Merlin, he had said something that Merlin wasn’t sure he understood then and he still wasn’t sure he understood now—Arthur had said that he’d ruined everything and that the one good thing in his life was going to leave him just like everyone else did. Then, before he left, he’d told Merlin he was sorry for being such a failure but that Merlin needed to understand that sometimes people weren’t as perfect as he thought they were.

The memory still made Merlin bristle; how dare Arthur make such a comment about Gaius. It was so unfair. Gaius was full of goodness—there wasn’t an evil bone in his body.

Standing here now, Merlin didn’t want to say anything else; he’d said all he needed to, but being who he was, he just couldn’t remain silent. “You dismissed me as if I were a peasant off the street rather than your servant who would never lie to you, Arthur. Now if you don’t mind, I came up here to be alone.” Merlin turned back to look out over Camelot, his finger tracing the outline of the strange carved symbols. He heard the door shut and sighed before looking over his shoulder. Perhaps he should have given Arthur a chance to apologize, but he wasn’t ready for that yet. He was still much too angry and upset. He had thought his word meant something to Arthur. That Arthur had given his thoughts so little merit hurt and made Merlin wonder if he should stay.

Of course, he had no choice but to remain in Camelot; Kilgharrah had made that blatantly clear. Leaving wasn’t an option. He’d have to continue serving Arthur, knowing that there wasn’t trust between them anymore. It was a harsh reality.

Several minutes later the door opened again. Merlin cleared his throat. “I told you I wasn’t ready to talk,” he said, wishing that his employer wasn’t so hard-headed.

“It’s me, Merlin,” Gwen said before she shut the door behind her. “I can leave if you’d rather not talk.”

If she left, someone else was sure to take her place. That was just the way Merlin’s luck was running these days, so he shook his head. Arthur had no doubt sent her to try to talk sense into him, the same as he had sent Gwaine to talk to him after their row in the Armoury. “How could Arthur have thought that Gaius would have ever betrayed him? I don’t understand, Gwen. If anyone has ever had Arthur’s back, it’s Gaius.”

“I don’t know, Merlin, but I didn’t come out here to talk about Gaius. He will be fine with rest. I came out here to talk to you about Arthur. I am worried about him, and I am concerned about you.”

“Arthur?” Merlin let out a mirthless laugh, recalling a conversation he and Gwen had shared almost six years earlier. Something about Gwen saying she could never see herself marrying someone like Arthur. Oh what a difference a few years made.

Merlin guessed it wouldn’t be long before Arthur asked for Gwen’s hand in marriage. “Why? Did he ask you to come out here and see how upset I was? If I was going to leave because I couldn’t deal with him? He sent Gwaine after me yesterday; I guess he doesn’t think I can deal with what is happening on my own.” Merlin was bitter, but he thought he had every right to be.

Trying to calm himself, Merlin focused his attention back on the father and son. Now the son was smiling and the father was speaking to him. Merlin wondered what they were saying.

“He is afraid you will leave because of his doubting you. You wouldn’t do that, would you, Merlin?” Gwen asked, her voice sounding uncertain.

Merlin wanted to lie. He wanted to be spiteful in the face of Arthur’s hurting him, but he wouldn’t. He couldn’t, and he was more than a little surprised that Arthur hadn’t told Gwen about their huge blowup of the day before. Perhaps he had and Gwen was just being nice by not bringing it up. Ever so slowly, his face fell. “I could never leave Arthur, Gwen. I wish I could, but I can’t.”

“I’m glad,” she said, a relieved grin making an appearance. “I don’t know what he would do without you; he depends on you, Merlin.”

At this, Merlin let out another laugh. “Yeah, so much so that he dismisses Gaius for someone who would betray him, and when I try to tell him what I think, he completely shuts down and refuses to listen. I don’t know about you, Gwen, but I don’t think that bodes very well for trust between us, and I think trust is important, don’t you? I don’t much fancy working for someone who doesn’t trust me or believe in me.”

Merlin knew he was acting petulantly, but he didn’t much care. He thought he’d proven his loyalty time and time again, and he thought he knew Arthur, but clearly, he didn’t.

“But he does believe in you, Merlin.” Gwen approached Merlin, and when he finally faced her, she took his hands in hers. “I think you know that.”

Yes, Merlin had thought he’d known that, but Arthur’s unwillingness to believe him had said far more than words ever could. Merlin had never felt such betrayal.

It was all down to Agravaine, of course. Merlin wasn’t stupid—he knew that Arthur’s uncle had a hold over his sister’s son that no one else could touch. It scared Merlin to think how much Arthur relied on the man. How was he to ever break through that nearly impenetrable bond?

”But he believes in Agravaine more, Gwen. I can’t compete with his deceased mother’s brother. I don’t care how much he might have relied on me in the past, now he has his uncle. There’s no place for me. Not really.” Merlin shrugged his shoulders. “He has him as his advisor, and I’m sure it won’t be long before he has you as his wife. Where does that leave me?” 

Now Merlin knew he was being overly dramatic but he was past caring. “Perhaps I’ve overstayed my welcome.” Obviously, there would be no leaving Arthur or Camelot, but Merlin was going to see this melodrama through.

Gwen let out a small chuckle and let go of Merlin’s hands, but when Merlin frowned, she quickly schooled her expression. “You don’t have a clue,” she said as she rolled her eyes and followed it with a sigh. “I thought you were just being careful around me, Merlin, but you really don’t know, do you?”

“Don’t know what?” Merlin asked, tired, wanting to go to bed, even if it was only early evening. It had been a stressful day, week, month, months. Not that many hours ago he thought he’d lost Gaius forever, but he’d got him back. Then there was Agravaine and Arthur to deal with. And Morgana. It was enough to make Merlin’s head spin. And now Gwen was giving him that look that said he was being daft. To be fair, plenty of people gave him that look on a daily basis, but with everything else going on, Merlin didn’t feel like being generous. “I don’t have it in me to guess what you’re rabbiting on about.”

“If you left, Merlin, Arthur would be lost.”

Well, that certainly cleared things up. “You’ve said that.” Merlin had had enough and was ready to leave. “But it’s a lie. He has you. Why ever would he need me when he has you?” Merlin wanted to laugh. Sometimes Gwen could be as daft as him.

“You really have no idea how much Arthur relies on you, do you? And if you think he is ever going to rely on me before you, then you need to take a closer look at what is happening, Merlin. Arthur and I are close, yes, but not as close as you seem to think. Things haven’t been the same since Arthur allowed his uncle to come between us.” Gwen looked upset and turned her head away briefly. She took a deep breath before returning her focus to Merlin. “I wish it weren’t so, yet it is. But it is for the best, really, it is,” she said, trying and failing to smile. But it wasn’t long before that familiar grin was back.

Merlin was perplexed; this was the first he had heard of this. “But you’ll work it out, Gwen. I know you will,” he said, trying to smile and assure her. “He knows how wrong he was to listen to his uncle. He was a complete mess when you weren’t together. The two of you were meant to be together.”

Gwen looked to be having an internal battle with herself. She opened and closed her mouth several times, and she turned to look out over Camelot. A few seconds later she turned back towards him. She swallowed and took a deep breath. “You asked why he would rely on you when he has me. I wish I had a more eloquent way to tell you this, but it seems that with you, being straightforward is the best way. Merlin, Arthur’s in love with you. He always has been. Well, maybe not from the very beginning, but almost from the beginning,” she added as she gave him a weak smile. “He doesn’t love me. He loves you. You really had no clue, did you?” A peace seemed to fall over her face as another smile broke out. “But it’s the truth. You must know I would never say any of this if it weren’t absolutely true. You are one of my dearest friends, Merlin. You mean far too much to me for me to tell you something such as this and it not be the truth.”

Merlin opened his mouth to deny Gwen’s claim; it was ludicrous. There was no way Arthur was in love with him. Arthur barely tolerated him on a daily basis and was always putting him down. That was not what someone who loved you did.

Completely gobsmacked, Merlin smiled that wide grin of his and shook his head. “No, Gwen, you’ve got it all wrong. Arthur loves you. He told me so. I see it in his eyes when he talks about you and when you are together.” Merlin was being truthful—it was the way he saw it—but most of his façade was because he wasn’t about to address what Gwen had said. He wasn’t about to go down that unattainable path. Doing such wasn’t worth all the money in the world. Gwen’s words changed nothing.

Except that they made Merlin think back to the epic row he and Arthur had the day before. He had said some harsh things to Arthur, who hadn’t defended himself at all, but what he had said now made Merlin feel sick to his stomach. What if Arthur had been talking about losing Merlin? And what if he had been talking about himself and not Gaius when he said some people weren’t as perfect or as good as they appeared?

Gwen walked to the parapet and looked at the goings-on below. “Arthur and I aren’t together anymore, Merlin. We will always be friends, and he can always count on my loyalty, but he and I weren’t meant to be. You and he were. I truly believe that. One only needs to see the two of you together at any time during the day to know that there is something there.” She then turned toward Merlin. “I know you aren’t as daft as you would have me believe. You must know that what I’m saying is the truth.”

Merlin fervently shook his head. “Bu- I don’t understand how you can say that? That’s just stupid talk.” Merlin really wanted this conversation to be over. He had come up here to clear his mind and get over the fact that one of his best friends hadn’t believed him and had dismissed his thoughts so quickly. He had known he’d get over it and that he would forgive Arthur, but he had needed this time to let everything settle and not be so near the surface.

But this… Merlin didn’t understand why Gwen would say such things. It was untrue, it was unnecessary, and above all else, it was hurtful in a way that not even Gwen, who was one of Merlin’s closest friends, could begin to fathom. “He can’t love me. It-it isn’t proper.” And that was that. Merlin briefly closed his eyes.

He couldn’t do this again.

Soon after he’d come to Camelot he had been poisoned—well, he had drunk poison meant for Arthur (which had actually been meant for Merlin)—and Arthur had saved his life. It had taken time for Merlin to regain his strength, and Arthur had been there for Merlin every step of the way, which had been good, but it had also been bad because Merlin had begun to feel something more than he knew he should for his employer. His feelings had continued to grow until Arthur told him he’d kissed Gwen.

That had crushed Merlin, but he had buried his feelings and got on with things. Gwen was one of his closest friends, and he wanted the best for her. Over time, Merlin’s feelings for Arthur had become a distant ache, and he had wished happiness for him and Gwen.

Then a few months back it had all resurfaced unexpectedly when Arthur had given him something that had been his mother’s, and Merlin hadn’t quite recovered from that. As before, he had buried his feelings. Now, for all of that to be stirred… it was so much more painful than Merlin could have ever imagined. He again shook his head. He couldn’t allow himself to go down that road again.

“Why is that, Merlin? Because you’re his servant? Who do you think I am?” Gwen asked, looking forlorn. “I can’t make the two of you see what I see, but it’s obvious that you and Arthur need to talk; you’ll have to work this out on your own. I’ve done all I can do, but I beg of you, Merlin, don’t shut him out.” And with that she left him alone.

Unsure what to do, he turned around so he could again look at the people below, going about their daily business. The father and son were now on the other side of the courtyard, speaking to one of the courtiers. Merlin found himself envying the boy. He was still young and had to do what his father said. Merlin laughed, because, well, he had Arthur who was all too ready to tell him what to do, but it wasn’t at all the same as one’s parent giving them direction.

Being an adult really wasn’t all that great.

Because being an adult meant it was your turn to make the difficult decisions that would affect your future. You couldn’t count on someone else to make that hard choice for you.

But Merlin’s frown turned into a grin when he watched the little girl with her mother run to the man and the young boy. The man picked up the small girl and twirled her around. Merlin couldn’t hear her, but he could tell she was laughing.

Realization hit. They were a family: mother, father, daughter, and son. They were complete.

That was something neither Merlin nor Arthur had ever had.

They had that in common.

The door opened.

Merlin closed his eyes. He knew who it was.

“Is there anything I can say to make you forgive me?” Arthur asked, his voice soft and sad.

Merlin said nothing as he watched the mother handing the little boy something.

“I should have believed you about Gaius, but you must understand that when you accused my uncle of lying, it hurt, Merlin. You know how lost and alone I feel now that I am king. I would think you’d understand.”

Merlin shrugged his shoulders. “Oh, so that’s why you worry throughout the day, wondering what others think of you,” Merlin said as he slapped his forehead and made a face. “I had no idea, Arthur. I thought being king was easy.” Now Merlin let out a sigh and felt like slapping Arthur. Instead, he let out an unapologetic snort. If Arthur thought he was making things better, he wasn’t. Merlin couldn’t tell Arthur how wrong he was about Agravaine. The time wasn’t at hand yet. But it would be. Soon. Of that, Merlin had no doubt.

Slowly, he turned to Arthur, making sure his face was blank. He stared at him. There was much he wanted to say. He had so many questions. “Who has been by your side these past six years? Who has been the one to assure you that you are doing a fine job? Who is the one who keeps the hordes away when you don’t feel like seeing others? It certainly hasn’t been your uncle, Arthur. I wonder if he even knows what it is to be king. He woul—”

“Stand down, Merlin. I know what you think of him, but I won’t listen to this. I didn’t come out here to have you deride my uncle.”

Merlin let out an ugly laugh. Oh, if only Arthur knew the truth. But Merlin sobered quickly. He could ill afford to get on Arthur’s bad side. If he wanted to protect him, getting himself banished wouldn’t be a good way to do that. “Okay, so if you didn’t come out to talk about Agravaine, what did you come out here to talk about?” Merlin worried his bottom lip and continued to stare at Arthur, who was looking anywhere but him.

“I came out here to apologize, and I will get to that, but I also came out here to set you straight about a few things,” he said before looking Merlin in the eyes. “Yesterday you made several accusations that were baseless. If you truly think I don’t care about you, then you have never known me, Merlin. You were in a bad way after the Dorocha got to you, so you probably don’t remember, but watching you leave with Lancelot wasn’t exactly easy for me. I was certain I’d never see you alive again. There wasn’t anything I could do to change that. Then you came back and it was nothing less than a miracle.”

Merlin opened his mouth to respond, but Arthur put up a hand.

“You had your say yesterday, Merlin, now let me have mine.”

“Yeah, okay,” Merlin said, thinking that he’d probably forget what he’d wanted to say by the time Arthur finished. But he did owe it to Arthur to let him have his say. “Go on then.”

“Thank you,” Arthur said condescendingly. “As I was about to say, I swore to myself that I would never take you for granted again. Of course, I did, and then you were kidnapped after being injured. I blamed myself. Again, I had put you in mortal peril, and again you could have died. I feared for you. Gwen can tell you how irritable I was the entire time you were gone. Nothing was at all right while you were away. Luckily, you came back to us. So don’t you dare insinuate that I do not care for you, Merlin. You could accuse me of several other things, and I would accept those because they would be true, but do not go making assumptions you know nothing about.” Arthur’s chest was heaving and his eyes looked sad.

Merlin swallowed. He couldn’t stand to see that level of hurt in Arthur’s eyes; it was a look he had seen too many times.

And, at the moment, it was wholly unfair that the sometimes brash and always prattish Arthur could get to Merlin with such an expression.

He had been prepared to shout at Arthur and blame him for the condition Gaius was in, but how could he do that now that Arthur was looking at him that way, and after Arthur had pretty much just put Merlin in his place?

Even if it did sound rehearsed, as if Arthur had gone over this little speech a few hundred times in his head, it had been from the heart—there could be no doubt about that. Yes, Merlin had been justified in being angry, but he hadn’t been justified to say what he had. He had been overly cruel in his words to Arthur.

He should probably apologize. “You hurt me, so I guess I wanted to hurt you back. Sorry,” Merlin said in little more than a whisper. “But I’d had all I could take. You were just the unfortunate one I took it out on.” Merlin was, as Gwaine called it, in full-on pout mode, but he didn’t at all care.

Arthur nodded. “I know, Merlin. That’s why I allowed you to prattle on. I knew you needed an outlet. And I guess maybe I did ask for it. As I said, I came out here to apologize, and I truly am sorry for doubting you,” Arthur said as he reached into the belt of his tunic and withdrew a small box. He studied it intently before looking up at Merlin. “Gwen told me a few months ago that if I wasn’t careful I was going to push you too far and you would leave. I admit I didn’t believe her, but well, she just gave me a piece of her mind earlier and reminded me that my temper has and will be my undoing.”

Merlin looked at the box Arthur was holding and his entire body momentarily froze. A memory of another time and place, not so long ago, surfaced. Merlin took a deep breath. But then he forced himself to calm down. This wasn’t like last time. This could be anything. Merlin let out a small sigh. He really did need to stop letting his imagination run away with him.

He let go of that memory and returned his thoughts to the present conversation. “So,” he said, his voice much softer than he intended, “me telling you that your temper gets you in trouble meant nothing did it? You give my words so little weight.” Merlin shrugged his shoulders again and wished he didn’t sound like a wounded puppy. He really shouldn’t care as much as he did. “I mean, I understand, Arthur, it’s to be expected that you would rather listen to Gwen than me, but I can’t help think that no one cares what I say. Does everyone think of me as a joke? Arthur’s little idiot?” Merlin shouldn’t have said that, but he couldn’t take it back, and maybe that was good. It was how he felt, and maybe it was best that Arthur understand how much Arthur’s dismissal of him had hurt.

“Merlin, do you really think that is what I think of you? And do you honestly think anyone else thinks that of you? I couldn’t do what I do on a daily basis without you. If I have failed to thank you properly, then I am truly sorry. I am aware that I do take you for granted and that I do often dismiss your ideas too quickly, but I do rely on you. I would be completely lost without you.” Arthur looked hurt as he searched Merlin’s eyes.

What did Arthur want him to say? What else was Merlin to think when he was treated as he was each day? Okay, so, yes, he understood that was just Arthur’s way and that he was almost always teasing him, but serious or not, it hurt. “George could easily do what I do for you, Arthur, perhaps more proficiently.” He had said this more for the reaction than thinking it was the truth, although, it was, but when Arthur’s face fell and looked as sad as Merlin had ever seen, Merlin realised he hadn’t wanted to see _that_ reaction. Merlin opened and closed his mouth several times, unable to speak. What could he say? What should he say?

Arthur again studied the small box in his hand. “Merlin, we need to talk.” And when he looked up at Merlin, there was a shimmer in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

Merlin had wanted to reply with something funny, but once he saw Arthur’s eyes, he knew the time for saying anything flippant had passed. “So talk,” he said, much angrier than he’d meant, but he was still hurt; it would take time for him to get over what all had happened over the past few days.

Arthur looked as if he might be ill. “I know this isn’t at all the right time. I had it all planned out for when the weather changed, after time had passed and you and I were at a different place with things between us, but if I wait that long I might lose you. If I haven’t already lost you,” he added as he opened the box and withdrew a long gold chain.

Merlin’s eyes must have grown to the size of saucers. His breath certainly did speed up as he watched Arthur study the chain with a familiar ring on it. Merlin had to fight his emotions. Could what Gwen said be true? Merlin didn’t dare hope. He didn’t have it in him to go through this again. Yet here he was.

He looked into Arthur’s eyes, pleading for an explanation. He knew one was forthcoming, but it couldn’t come fast enough. Merlin had to fight the urge to let out a sob. It was close, though, much too close, and he bit it back by biting his cheek.

“If you’ll recall, I gave you my mother’s sigil when you returned with Lancelot,” Arthur said, his voice slightly trembling. “I was grateful to have you back. Giving you the sigil that had belonged to my mother was a token of loyalty and brotherhood. You can never be a knight, but I wanted to give you something to show you that you were just as important to me as each of them.” Arthur then let out a rather large breath and briefly looked away, in that way he did when he was contemplating something of great importance.

Merlin allowed the information to sink in. He nodded. He hadn’t understood until now just why Arthur had given him his mother’s sigil. It had been an uncomfortable moment for Merlin to be given such an important memento because in his heart he had wanted it to mean something that it never could. It had and continued to upset Merlin to think of that day, but now the memory made him smile. He finally understood.

Arthur cleared his throat as he looked down towards the busy courtyard.

“But in these past few months, Merlin, I’ve come to realise that you are much more important to me than my knights. If I were to be honest, which, I guess I am being, you are more important to me than anyone else alive.” And then Arthur turned towards Merlin, looking as if he were a wounded little boy, pleading with his mother to make the hurt go away. “This is my mother’s ring. Other than her sigil, it’s the only possession of hers that my father allowed me to have. I’d like you to wear it. If you want to, that is; you might not want to and that’s fine, but I ju—”

“Yes, I’ll wear it,” Merlin said without much immediate thought. He was completely unable to make sense of any of this—what was happening was what he wanted to ask, but if he knew one thing about this, he knew that it was taking all that Arthur had in him to say these things, and it meant everything to Merlin. He was most definitely still confused, and apparently he and Arthur had much to discuss, but there was no way he was not going to wear Arthur’s mother’s ring around his neck.

He was unable to say anything, but he turned around and allowed Arthur to fasten the chain. Then he looked down at the beautiful gold ring and felt a surge of warmth. He turned his head and smiled at Arthur. “Did Gwen tell you to give it to me?” He asked, finally able to speak. He wished that hadn’t been the first thing to come out of his mouth after being given such a gift, but he couldn’t help it. And, he would guess that, even if it hadn’t been Gwen’s idea to give him the ring, it had been her who had brought about this current conversation. Merlin didn’t know what he’d ever done to deserve such a loyal friend, but he was thankful for her all the same.

Arthur looked hurt. “No, Merlin, she didn’t,” he said as if he were speaking to an idiot. He scrunched up his nose and forehead in that adorable way of his and then let out let out a small chuckle. “But when my uncle and Gwaine brought Gaius back and we knew you’d been telling the truth, she did tell me that there could never be a future between me and her, and that if I let you get away I deserved to be alone for the rest of my life, and then earlier, after she left from talking to you, she came to see me and told me it was time for me to stop acting like a wounded child.” He didn’t look too happy admitting such.

Merlin couldn’t help the laugh. “She said that, did she?”

Arthur hesitantly nodded. “I don’t know about you, Merlin, but I don’t ever want to be on the wrong end of a woman’s wrath, although, I guess I am, aren’t I? My dear sister. What a happy family we make,” he said, letting out a mirthless laugh. “Daddy Uther, who mourned for his deceased wife until his dying day; Sister Morgana, who feels betrayed and slighted and wants to right all the wrongs ever done to her, and me, lost Arthur, who can’t quite find his way.” He then closed his eyes.

Merlin looked down below and found the family he’d been watching. He’d seen that they weren’t perfect, but now they looked happy and content. It made Merlin smile, but when he turned to look at Arthur, his grin faltered to see the king of Camelot looking as lost and alone as he’d ever seen him. It was down to Merlin to change that.

He had no idea what to say. He didn’t even know what the ring meant. But he had to say something. “I’m not your family, Arthur. I can never take the hurt away that not having a mother precipitated, and I can never remove the sadness that was kindled by your father not being more present in your life, nor can I make your sister love you again, but I can help you find your way.” The _I will be your family_ was left unsaid.

Merlin swallowed. He couldn’t believe he had said all of that. He held his breath as he watched Arthur open his eyes and look at him, his face morphing through a myriad of expressions before he nodded.

He opened his mouth but no words came out. Instead he turned and looked down at the goings-on in the courtyard. Merlin wondered if he saw the family who was now walking toward the opposite side of the courtyard, the children running in circles around their parents. They seemed like such a perfect family. Merlin knew, of course, that there was no such thing as _perfect_ , but he also knew that when someone longed for something as much as he did, when it was spotted, it _was_ perfect. Merlin couldn’t have smiled more if he tried as he turned towards Arthur, who was observing him, his angelic face beautifully framed against the cloudy, dusky sky that was settling in.

“I’d like that,” Arthur replied as he stepped into Merlin’s personal space. “I can’t believe I was such a fool to ever doubt you about Gaius. I’m sure it won’t be the last time I act or speak before I think, but you’ve got to know that there is no one I trust more than you, Merlin.” Arthur then leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to Merlin’s lips. When he pulled back he grabbed hold of Merlin’s neckerchief and gently tugged him towards him and embraced him in a hug.

As sweet as the kiss had been, the hug was so much more intimate. Merlin basked in it and held on to Arthur, not wanting to ever let go. Several seconds later, just as he began to pull back, the conversation between Arthur and Sir Leon, the one he had heard unintentionally, came back to him. He tightened his hold on Arthur. It all made sense. Sir Leon had said that Arthur should be honest with him.

Merlin grinned and couldn’t stop.

And then the sky opened up and the heavens released torrents of water. Merlin didn’t care, and it seemed that Arthur didn’t mind either. They continued clinging to one another as the rain soaked them. It was one of those moments that Merlin would never forget.

Merlin remembered his mother telling him a story about how when he was four or five and they had been at the market in a nearby village when a rainstorm came through. His mother had been worried that Merlin would get sick from being in the rain, but that he had run around and laughed and laughed and laughed, and he hadn’t got sick. She loved telling that story, and now Merlin loved that she had shared it with him.

He had always loved rain, and now he had a special rain memory to share with Arthur.

Sometime later Merlin felt himself being led to the door, and he allowed Arthur to guide him down the stairs, leaving a trail of water behind them. They said nothing as they made their way to Arthur’s chambers, but it was a pleasant silence filled with anticipation.

Merlin had no idea what to expect next, but what he did know was that he was ready for whatever it was. He looked down at the ring and fingered it. He couldn’t believe that Arthur had given it to him—it was so very personal. He felt the wetness in his eyes and wondered if Arthur could see it as well. A hand snaked around his waist and pulled him closer. Merlin leant his head on Arthur’s shoulder and felt safe and protected.

“My father was a harsh man, Merlin. He and I didn’t see eye to eye on many things, but the greatest gifts he ever gave me were the sigil I gave you, the ring you are now wearing around your neck, the knowledge that my mother would have loved me and doted on me every day of my life, and the advice that if there was one person in this world who would always be there for me, it was you, so I should never take you for granted.”

Merlin didn’t know how to respond. “I guess we have to thank your father for bringing us together. Without his interference it’s likely we would have never been allowed to know one another.” It was a surreal moment. Merlin had truly despised Uther Pendragon, yet the man had made it possible for Merlin and Arthur to get to know one another.

“Yeah,” Arthur said, somewhat distracted as he opened the door to his chambers. “I guess we do.” And that was the last word he said before he closed the door behind him and pushed Merlin up against it and kissed him as if it would be the last kiss he ever gave anyone.

Merlin was taken aback, but he wasn’t about to step away. He had no idea where things would go for him and Arthur, but he wanted to find out. What he had dreamt of for almost six years was possibly about to come to pass. He opened his mouth and welcomed the feeling of Arthur kissing him. It was wonderful. Until Arthur pulled back, that is. Merlin might have made a noise of protest at the absence.

“This isn’t going at all how I planned, Merlin. You deserve a proper courtship, but I can’t deny that I want you. I want you now. But I don’t know that you want me. Do you?” Arthur’s beautiful blue eyes were shining with unshed tears as he looked at Merlin.

Merlin had no words to answer, so a kiss and some intense frotting was his answer. He wanted Arthur so much it hurt. “Want you to fuck me in your bed.” He had never been one for eloquence before, so why start now?

Arthur gently turned Merlin around and pointed to the bed. “I don’t think you’re quite ready for that yet, but soon. Very soon, I promise.”

Disappointed that he’d have to wait, yet pleased that Arthur was thinking about someone else’s needs and not his own, Merlin let out a chuckle. He’d known that somewhere beneath all the bluster there was a sensitive soul within Arthur. “I think I’ll hold you to that.” Merlin looked around the room and thought that it looked completely different. He had seen it daily for six years, yet it didn’t look like the same chambers at all now. Then it had just been some room that he cleaned and made sure was readied for the prince who then became king, but now it was so much more. It was the place where Merlin was about to share Arthur’s bed. It was an overwhelming thought, and when he felt a hand on his face, Merlin leant in to the touch and breathed in the familiar scent of Arthur.

“I hope you understand, Merlin, that I’m not asking for a night, and I’m not asking for a fling. I want you forever.” Arthur rolled his eyes when Merlin made a face. “I’m being serious, Merlin. I know that must sound a bit girlish coming from me, but my father loved and mourned my mother until his dying day. I want to love like that. I want to love someone forever. And I want that someone to be you.” After he finished, Arthur looked entirely uncomfortable, as would anyone who had lived most of their lives repressing their emotions.

Merlin, completely astonished, nodded. He very much wanted the same thing, but he was afraid that at any moment he would wake and realise that this had all been a dream. The thought terrified him. Arthur was looking at him with such love and devotion, or maybe that was just Merlin’s inner-monologue supplying that bit of emotion. Whatever the case, Merlin was beyond caring.

The only thing that mattered was that this thing between him and Arthur was happening at this moment. It might all disappear in a second, or maybe it really was a dream and Merlin would soon wake, but for this very second, Merlin was living it, and it was everything he had ever wanted it to be. “Well, then, I guess it’s a good thing that I want someone to love me forever,” Merlin said, a grin on his face as he began unfastening Arthur’s breeches. “And it’s also a good thing that I want to love you forever,” he said as he turned Arthur towards the bed. “And let’s start this loving each other thing by letting me suck that lovely cock of yours until I make you scream.”

Arthur stepped out of his breeches and gasped as Merlin’s fingers wrapped around his purplish cock. “No fair,” he ground out as he unfastened Merlin’s breeches and took the long, thin cock in his hands and examined it. “If you get to suck me, I get to do the same to you.”

A minute or two later, the two of them arranged comfortably on the bed, Merlin’s eyes rolled back as Arthur’s mouth wrapped around his cock. It felt so good. A second later he did the same with Arthur’s and they settled into a rhythm. It had been a long time since he’d been with anyone, and he’d never done this before, so the sensations were all new and oh so wonderful. He licked, sucked, slurped, and caressed, breathing in Arthur’s musky scent as he fucked Arthur’s mouth with all he had. It probably wasn’t a pretty sight, the two of them writhing on the bed as they tried to undo the other, but to Merlin, it was everything he had ever hoped.

Every once in a while Arthur would make a lovely sound and it went straight to Merlin’s cock. He loved the feel of Arthur’s warm mouth and tongue on him, and when a finger breached him, Merlin had to be careful not to bite down on Arthur’s cock. He wisely let go for a second or two to regain his composure, and he let out a squeal when another finger joined the first.

Merlin never wanted this feeling to end. “You’re going to fuck me before we leave this bed, Arthur,” he said, his breaths shallow as he continued to fuck Arthur’s mouth with increasing abandon. “I want this glorious cock of yours that I have been worshipping to impale me and make me scream.” Then Merlin reclaimed the leaking cock and sucked with all the pressure he had. Arthur tasted and smelled so very good, but Merlin had to force himself to slow down. It wouldn’t do for him to pass out.

He felt as his cock slipped out of Arthur’s mouth. He would have protested, but he was too exhausted. He was still sucking on Arthur’s cock as if it was his lifeline, but as he was manhandled, the cock slipped out of his mouth. Again, Merlin was too exhausted to ask what was going on.

“I am about to make you come all over my sheets, Merlin.”

Something wet entered Merlin and it took him a second or two to realise it was Arthur’s tongue. It delved far deeper than Merlin would have thought a tongue could go, and it elicited a groan from him that sounded foreign to his ears. He listened to Arthur slurping, which reminded him that Arthur’s cock needed attention. He managed to reclaim it, even though it was now at a different angle, and that, along with the feeling of Arthur fucking his hole with his tongue was all it took for Merlin’s orgasm to crash over him. He could feel his cock pushing out the come, and he could feel as Arthur’s movements became erratic when his orgasm hit him.

They both shook together and rode out the pleasure for what seemed like minutes.

What a difference a few hours made.

When the day had started, Merlin had been at his wit’s end, but now things were improving, at least somewhat. There was much to do yet to make sure Agravaine and Morgana did not cause any lasting damage to Camelot or Arthur, and Gaius would take time to mend fully, but Merlin and Arthur would be okay.

Actually, they would be more than okay.

Both of them were stubborn, and that wouldn’t change, but they had found something that was more important—they had found in each other someone to be their family, someone to love them forever.

There would no doubt be bickering, haughtiness, and entitled prats to deal with for the rest of his life, but Merlin was more than fine with that.

As Arthur trembled through his orgasm, Merlin swallowed all of what Arthur gave him and caressed the taut stomach and firm upper thighs. He could so easily close his eyes and fall asleep—his exhaustion from earlier hadn’t magically disappeared, but he instead forced himself to wait for Arthur to settle down before he moved so he was lying next to him. 

They stared into each other’s eyes, and when Arthur pulled Merlin closer, Merlin settled his head on Arthur’s shoulder. When a familiar voice whispered _thank you_ in his ear, Merlin wiped away a tear and closed his eyes.

He loved Arthur’s familiar, posh voice and thought that he would never tire of hearing it, especially when it was whispering words to _him_ that meant at least some of the secrets between them were over.


End file.
